


and the bells toll

by pragmatica



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1940s, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Multi, Non-Linear Narrative, Original Character(s), Period-Typical Racism, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-06-17 11:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15460128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pragmatica/pseuds/pragmatica
Summary: They had been tightly woven together since they were young, but oh how easy it is to forget.





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> _For I am involved in mankind._  
>  Therefore, send not to know  
> For whom the bell tolls,  
> It tolls for thee. __

**2015**

* * *

* * *

 

Flora didn't remember how he found her, all she knew was she hurt. And he had caused her pain before.

" _Stop."_ His voice was strange, garbled. _Why can't I understand him?_ On his hip was a gun, shining in the dim light of the grubby apartment. " _Relax."_

She was pressed against a wall, peeling paint scratching her exposed shoulders. She tried focusing on her breathing, but something about it was wrong. Her lungs and back shook, her vision blurred and faded at the edges. The man pressed forward, as if to reach for her. She snapped her gaze towards him and leveled the knife back at him. _Stay back._ When she opened her mouth, nothing came out.

His mouth was moving, his hands up in surrender, but she fell back, her head cracking against the wood floor. The air left her lungs in seconds, and she was gone.

  

She had been staring up at the darkness for what felt like hours. Her hands weren't bound, but the light snores from a few feet away assured Flora she wasn't alone. She twitched her fingers, slowly. They felt bruised and frozen. Her limbs felt heavy and stiff, detached from herself. When she managed to sit up, she stared at the man in the chair across from her. He was still, hair falling into his face.

She took her eyes off him and focused on trying to get up. She was able to move most of her limbs, but her mind was clouded. Instead of trying to raise herself off the mattress she was sat upon, she rolled herself into the tile floor. It made very little noise, but the man still jerked awake. Flora froze at her spot on the floor, feigning sleep. She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. The man walked up to her, heavy boots creaking next to her good ear. She tensed, expecting a kick to the ribs, but instead felt hands around her, helping her back on the bare mattress. Once she was tucked back in, he checked her forehead and smoothed back her hair. She jerked her hand back and smacked him across the face.

He stumbled back in surprise as she bolted for the door. He easily caught her by the waist and tried to hold down her thrashing limbs.

"Let me go!" She screamed, gnashing her teeth. She tried to find anything to bite or claw at, but he was out of reach.

After a few seconds he dropped her on the floor and covered her mouth. She winced, expecting a blow. When it didn't come, she opened her eyes and looked at him.

She immediately went slack in his grip.

He shot her an annoyed look. "I'm not going to hurt you. You need to keep your voice down or they're going to call the police and we could be tracked down. Got it?"

She nodded frantically.

He slowly removed his hand and studied her. "Are you alright?"

She was still nodding frantically, now with tears beading at the corners of her eyes. He moved to stand, but she caught his arm. It was weak, but he stayed in her grasp, looking into her dark eyes.

 _“Bucky?”_ Her voice felt loud in the darkness of the apartment. She felt like she was spiraling out of control, crashing to the ground.

She moved to brush her hands through his hair- _it’s so long-_ but hadn’t regained all the control in her arms. The gesture came off a little harsher than she intended, and he flinched. 

“I’m sorry.” She slurred, her head rolling against her shoulder.“It is you? And not…not him?”

He was studying her like she was something to be feared, which she perhaps was. He nodded at her question.

Flora took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” His hand was across her forehead again, trailing down her cheeks. His hands seemed hesitant, like he wasn’t sure how to move. “What happened?”

 “You need to sleep. You’re sick.” He was guiding her up now, practically carrying her back to the mattress. She shrugged against him, but ended up resting her head against his chest anyways.

“What did they do to me?” It was a whisper, and he was laying her down and covering her up again. He pressed a couple pills in her hand and handed her water. She took them obediently, the fight taken out of her by Hydra.

“Are we safe?” She tried again once he was sat down in his chair again. She heard him sigh and shift, his clothes rustling about. She held her breath.

“Yes.”

 


	2. When We Were

**July, 1940**

* * *

* * *

 

The young man was hovering over her counter. Flora sighed and tried to ignore him. _Why does he insist on annoying me?!_

“C’mon, doll, it’ll be fun.”

She leveled her eyes to the taller man, tired and starting to feel a little cynical. “No, Buck. I’m not leaving work so I can go down to the shore with you two to…fool around and get sand in my shoes!” She closed her receipt book with a huff. He still had his irritatingly handsome smile on his irritatingly handsome face.

“It’s Stevie’s birthday!” He stuck out his bottom lip and pouted, his eyes pleading. Flora gnawed on her lower lip. He knew that Steve was her weak spot.

“We agreed to celebrate it on Friday.”

“Wanted to see the fireworks like we always do. ‘S that a crime?”

“No, but my boss could fire me.”

Bucky gave her a grin and gestured around the room. “It’s not busy here at all. I even talked to your boss- he said you haven’t taken any days off recently. Why not leave a little early?”

Flora checked her watch with her eyebrows raised.  “Three hours?”

She sighed deeply and closed her eyes, thinking. She pressed her hands against her eyes and thought a little harder. “Do you have something planned?”

 “Of course.” Bucky said.

“Do you even have his present with you?”

“ _Of course.”_ This time he sounded exasperated.

 She dropped her hands and let out a light laugh. “ _Fine._ But this is only for Steve, you schmuck. Don’t think for one second I’ll enjoy your company, you meatball.”

 He gave her a dashing smile that made her want to choke on her words. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

 

It took Bucky fifteen minutes to corral her out the door. Most of it was her apologizing to her boss and making promises to work later shifts. Her boss waved it aside, telling her she was young and she should have fun. Flora still didn’t seem too happy about leaving.

Steve met them there at the shore by the Brooklyn Bridge. He smiled and waved at the two of them, Flora in her work outfit and Bucky in a button down and worn trousers. The wind whipped his blonde hair almost violently, and to his discontent it looked mused and messy. When the two finally saw him Flora raced over to hug him.

He stumbled back when her mass hit him. Her arms squeezed his thin frame tightly.

"Happy birthday Stevie. It’s been way too long.”

Steve fought back the blush that ran across his cheeks as he pulled away. “Only a couple weeks.”

“A couple weeks too long.” She unwound her arms from him and glanced over at Bucky who was sat back staring at them with a grin on his face. “This one didn’t mention he wanted to do something today. I would have prepared something, but-“

“I already told you, everything’s taken care of.” He wink at her and slung an arm around her shoulder. Flora huffed at him but didn’t move. “Just relax, you stress too much. Why can’t I be the one who plans things for once?”

Flora and Steve met each other’s eyes. Steve gave her a small smile and a shrug as she fought back a chuckle. She reached under the taller man’s arm and pinched it lightly. He pulled back with an exaggerated yelp and glared at her.

It took the boys almost no time to get their shirts untucked and their shoes and socks off. The two of them ran towards the shore like children, laughing and shoving each other like it was a race. Flora stood still, smiling. She felt hesitant. Yes, she came down to have fun with them, but that didn’t mean she agreed to getting her work dress wet and sandy.

“Flora!” Bucky called out. “Just sitting around isn’t any fun!”

She watched them a second more before joining them. Their hair was tussled and smiles stretched across their faces. Bucky had his sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong forearms and Steve’s face was red from the ocean breeze. Flora slid off her shoes and panty hose then carefully trudged over to where they were.  Bucky wordlessly handed her a smoothed stone.

She turned it over in her palm as Steve and Buck talked, about art or work or the apartment she wasn’t sure. It probably didn’t involve her. She threw the stone and it skipped thrice before sinking under the calm waves.

It was nice. Being adults they didn’t play games or build sandcastles, but they walked up and down the shoreline talking and brushing shoulders. Not many people were out given it was a weekday, but that suited them just fine. The three of them all met back at their bags and shoes sandy and sopping, but content.

As she bend down to buckle her shoes, Her stomach decided to growl. She pressed her hands to her abdomen as if to hush it. She wasn’t embarrassed- the three of them had been through much too for embarrassment. She was just annoyed.

“Hungry?” Bucky was pulling on his jacket. She nodded, pressing her lips together, trying to think of what was in the area that didn’t taste like utter garbage.

Steve appeared by her side, holding a picnic basket and wearing a wide grin. “Any place in particular you want to eat, doll?”

Flora grinned and almost tackled Steve in a hug. “You’re amazing. Brilliant. The best man I’ve ever know, Steve Rogers.”

Bucky scoffed and marched over to them. “I’ll have you _know_ …” she stopped paying attention and instead scanned the park greenery for a place to sit.

With a smile, she grabbed Steve’s hand and ran up to a grassy area up the hill from the shore, leaving Bucky behind in the dust. He hurried after them after giving her an unconvincing glare.

She was basically dragging Steve- they were around the same height, but she weighed about forty pounds more than him, and that included a lot of muscle. She loved showing it off, picking him up and spinning him around during hugs and wrestling with him. It made her feel like she wasn’t an adult with responsibilities. She hoped it made him feel as happy as it did her.

She was about to plop down on the grass when Steve pulled out his coat for her to sit on. She glanced up, eyes softening. “Stevie…”

He shrugged, not looking her in the eye. “Couldn’t let a beautiful dame mess up her dress.”

Flora looked down at her dress, confused. “Steve this is my work uniform. I look like a  marshmallow.”

His angular cheekbones had a flush across them. “You know you’d look great in anything, Flora.”

She put her hand to her chest and gasped in mock surprise. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Bucky standing with his arms crossed. “Buck, you better watch out. Steve’s coming after your title of heartthrob.”

He collapsed next to her and pulled an arm over his eyes. “Let ‘im. I’m done with dames for now.”

Flora and Steve met each other’s eyes and started giggling. “C’mon. Let’s eat, I’m so hungry I’m about to start gnawing on Bucky.”

“Okay, okay.” Steve held up his hands and opened up the basket. Ham and cheese sandwiches were wrapped neatly in parchment paper, three apples sat next to three hard boiled eggs, and off to the side was what appeared to be cake wrapped in cloth. Tucked away were bottles of pop- a delicacy with how much they’ve been scrapping for money.

Her mouth dropped as she glanced between the two boys. “Did Becky pack this?” Steve handed her a sandwich and she dug in happily. _Never have I tasted ham and cheese this good!_

“Don’t have faith in us, Flora?” Bucky said between mouthfuls of apple. She began to exaggeratedly chew with her mouth open until he stopped, right after sticking his tongue out at her. “She made the cake and boiled the eggs,” he continued once he was done. “We put it together.”

She nodded with a _hmmm_ and took another bite. She hadn’t seen Bucky’s sister in far too long, but her cooking was sure to be as amazing as Flora remembered it to be.

As soon as she swallowed her mouthful she studied Bucky with a skeptical gaze. "What's with you? Usually when we're busy we just wait until the weekend to get together."

Bucky didn’t meet her eyes and instead looked off at the skyline. The sun was melting into the ocean, reflected against Brooklyn Bridge. Despite the air pollution it still looked lovely. "Just wanted to spend time with my best guy and gal. Besides, it's Steve's twenty-first birthday, that's a pretty big deal, right?"

Flora let out a laugh as Steve's cheeks grew red. "Are you planning on dragging Stevie to a bunch of bars after the fireworks show? I think your usually haunts may be a bit too raunchy for him Buck."

He scowled as Steve took another bite of his sandwich, seemingly trying to ignore them.  He still looked bashful, which Flora always loved. Their spitfire, hardboiled Stevie could always blush so sweetly when they poked fun at him.

When they were done they packed the wicker basket and laid down pressing against each other talking about the past and the present, what had happened on last night's radio show and what someone had said at work. People started trickling into the park- families looking to bond, couples looking for a fun date and friends like them simply enjoying each other.

Flora sat up with a start, blinking her eyes. She felt drowsy from the dim light and the lull of the boys calm voices. They looked at her curiously as she dug into her bag, shoving aside lipsticks and pens. She finally pulled out a package wrapped in newspaper and handed it to Steve. He sat up and gave her a surprised smile.

"It's from both of us." She wrapped her arms around her knees and watched as he slowly peeled back the paper. Usually, they couldn't afford much more than cheap art supplies, but this year the two of them had saved up.

In his hands sat a black leather-bound notebook with a metal plaque across the front, his name engraved on it in a curled writing. He stared at it in wonder, his lips slightly parted. Bucky grinned with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, happy to see his best friend happy. "All 'a your other sketch pads fall apart or get crumpled." Bucky said as Steve flipped through the blank pages.

"And if some genius gets the idea to pick on you while you're packing it you can whack 'em with it and give 'em a bruise." Flora added in.

Steve's wide eyes flickered between the two of them. "Thank you, honest. I'm lucky to have you two."

"Really you deserve better than us." Flora grinned, handing him an old pen she kept in her purse. "I'm going to get some ices, give your new notebook a spin." As she got up and stretched her arms, her and Bucky made eye contact. _Do you want me to come with you?_ She frowned and glanced away. It was hard for him be protective of two small, strongly opinionated people. It was hard for her to tell him she didn’t need protecting. She reached down and grabbed her purse, flipping through to make sure she had enough money. "I'll be back soon."

Bucky stayed with Steve. It was his birthday, after all.

After waiting in line for ten minutes, Flora finally got three ices only to see a vendor selling sparklers several feet away, so she waited ten more for that, hoping to god their frozen treats didn't melt and also wondering how she was going to pack everything back.

 "What took you so long?" Bucky laughed as she chucked her bag towards his head. He dodged it easily and somehow managed to catch it as well.

Steve scrambled up and took most of the things from her hands. "You got sparklers too? You guys are really going all out on me."

"Well it is a national holiday after all," Bucky grabbed the cherry flavored ice and took a large bite. "Steve Roger's birthday."

Flora grinned and took a bite of her own. It was mostly melted, but the sugary syrup was still a nice treat.

The three of them sat back and finished their shaved ice, syrup dripping down their hands and making their faces sticky. Steve tried wiping his hands off in the grass, but had somehow managed to forget his mild grass allergy which Flora easily took away with her healing.

"Flora-" His face showed concern.

 "Don't worry. It's your birthday. Besides, it wasn't too much work." Still, she could feel a slight ache in the back of her skull as a faint glow covered both of their hands, the irritation leaving his skin.

Soon, the fireworks started. Steve never really liked them- they were a little too loud, making him wonder what it was like for his father twenty years prior- but he knew the other two enjoyed them. Settling back behind his older friends he picked up his new sketchbook and Flora’s pen and started drawing, wincing slightly at the fireworks that were a little too loud. He studied Bucky's strong jaw, inclined upward towards the sky, lips slightly parted, Flora's high cheekbones and dusting of freckles. His friends were easy to draw, it seemed as simple as writing his own name or tying his shoes. They were a part of him. When he closed his eyes they were there, burned in his memory.

When the fireworks slowed Steve continued scratching in his book as the other two watched people slowly file in for the night. It was getting dark- it was probably already past nine.

"My mother might be a little upset if I'm out past ten." Flora said into the silence, her pupils twitching as they followed visitors heading towards the exits. Steve watched that too, wishing he could commit that to paper as well. Instead, he ingrained it in his brain. "…but I guess I don't care." She leaned down and closed her eyes. Her hair was falling out of her bun, and Steve didn't fail to notice how Bucky's fingers hovered over the dark strands.

"She knows that you're in our safe, capable hands, doll." Bucky finished with his hands in his lap. Steve quietly wondered which girl he was currently dating and how upset Flora was. If she was done with him yet.

"Hmm. Neither of those statements are true, Barnes. You know my right hook is pretty deadly." She lazy opened an eye and smirked.

Bucky put up his fists playfully, his eyes glimmering. "Come on, pop one on me."

She sat up quickly and slid off her heels. Her brow was set. "With pleasure." _She's still dizzy on him._

They wrestled in the grass for a minute, until she gave him a quick lug to the stomach and he grabbed her by the waist, bringing her down to the ground with all his weight on her. She shrieked and beat her fists on his back. "Steve! Avenge me!"

Steve jumped up and aimed for Bucky's sides, a well-known ticklish spot of his. He twitched, then started laughing, rolling off Flora, who looked red faced and thoroughly pissed. Steve extended a hand, which she took.

"Ugh!" She lifted up her skirt slightly, revealing several rips in her stockings "Now my mom will defiantly kill me. Thank you so very much, _James."_

He did a little bow and gave her his winning smile. "Don't mention it. I'll buy you some new ones if you're that concerned about them. I think you'd look better without them, personally."

Steve glanced up at the sky, feeling a little flustered from Flora’s exposed skin. She sighed again and grabbed for his hand, his fingers much thinner than hers. She swung their palms together, and when Steve looked back at her she was grinning, brown eyes scrunched up in the way that made him know that she was truly content.

“We have the rest of that cake at home,” Bucky eventually said. Steve felt the hopefulness in his voice, almost like it was contagious. _Please don’t end this night._

Flora bit her lip and looked off in the direction of the city. Then smiled. “Yeah, why not?” _For you guys, anything._


	3. Reciprocity

**1927**

* * *

 They met her when Cecil Price punched her in the chest on the way home from school.

They were all in fourth grade and lived in the same neighborhood. Cecil was in eighth grade and loved picking on younger kids.

She dropped her books and sat down in the middle of the sidewalk, gasping for air, a few tears pricking her eyes. Bucky and Steve did what they do best and ran after the kid, confronting him. They both got their butts beat by the teenager, but Flora had invited them over to her house for snacks.

“Why did he do that to you?” Steve asked over lemonade and peanut butter sandwiches.

She shrugged and kicked her legs back and forth from the chair. “My mom says that some people are cruel. I don’t think the two of you are like that though.”

Steve studied her small smile as Mrs. Ito discreetly put another sandwich slice on his plate.

 

 

**1930**

* * *

Steve unsettled Flora in a way. If he wasn’t getting pushed around he was pushing others around. They were bullies who deserved it, but it was against what her parents told her to do. That didn’t mean she didn’t help him.

When they large redhead who reminded her of a fire engine shoved Steve into a dumpster she got him on the ground and didn’t stop punching him until Bucky pulled her off him. The guy was pretty bloodied, but she didn’t care about that. She ran to where her friend had been thrown at the metal container.

“Steve? Are you okay?” He had blood running down his lips coming from his nostrils. She didn’t see injuries often so it scared her. His eye was starting to swell. “Oh jeez. Does it hurt?”

He nodded stiffly and she glanced and Bucky who shrugged. “This kind of happens a lot.” He answered her confused look.

She let out an anxious sigh and made up her mind. “I can help, I think. I used to help the animals back at the farm if they were hurt. I think it’ll work with people too.”

“What-?”

She brought her hands up to  Steve’s face and closed her eyes. She focused on him, and she could feel him. The blood dripping down him and the broken and bruised tissue. She touched his skin gently and corrected all of the tissue she could, her energy flowing out of her. When she couldn’t sense anymore her eyes opened.

He still had blood on his face, but it wasn’t gushing out anymore. He was staring at her in shock.

“You were…glowing?”

She let out a chuckle. “Yeah…”

Bucky walked over to them and looked at Steve wide eyed. “Are you an angel?”

Flora frowned. “I’m not religious Bucky. I don’t believe in stuff like that.”

“Yeah but you were _glowing_ and you _healed him!_ ”

“I’ve been able to do that since I was little.” She shrugged and stood up. “I think my grandma could do it too, but I don’t know a lot about it.” She extended her hand to help Steve up and he looked at her starry-eyed. “Ugh, don’t pull that crap, Steve. Let’s just go, okay? You don’t pushed into a dumpster and you don’t smell too good.”

As they walked back to their neighborhood Bucky continued to grill her, asking question after question.

“For the last time Buck, I can’t regrow limbs!”

 

 

**1932**

* * *

 

Flora invites them to her hometown in the country and the boys' mothers seem to jump at the chance to get the boys out from under them. Bucky feels a little hurt at how happy his mom looks when he the three of them depart with Flora's uncle, but it is quickly forgotten with the excitement of thoughts of travel and exploration.

Flora excitedly hopped up and down on the leather seat of the car, already dressed in baggy old overalls, ready to work on the farm. She's chittering about the lake, the animals, her cousins…Bucky thinks she's like rabbit- tireless and adorable.

Steve watches her from the middle seat, blue eyes wide, his rosy pink lips in the shape of an 'o' as he listens. He looks to Bucky every so often to make sure he's listening, and Bucky feels something curl in his stomach.

Flora is quickly reprimanded for being a distraction and she pouts in silence the rest of the way down, the boys laughing at her.

 

They're in the boys' shared room late at night when he hears neither of them have been kissed. He hides his curiosity behind complacency.

"Yeah, I mean I've already kissed a girl. It's really easy."

Steve and Flora share a look, their faces illuminated a soft orange in the single oil lamp that was lit.

"I could show you guys, if you wanted."

He smiles easily, knowing how nervous they are. _He's_ nervous. He's sweating terribly so, and doesn't want to think about how Dorothy Owens kissed him first or how he accidentally slobbered all over her.

The two skittishly agree. Shaky hands reach for each other in the dim light, breathing quick and hurried.

Steve's lips are chapped, which almost makes Bucky laugh. Flora's are soft, like a flower petal. Both are chaste and the three of them all sit back in a flurry of anxious giggles.

 

The next day they gather fruits from the orchard and think nothing of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My demon brain at 3am: upload RIGHT NOW
> 
> I think the story will be a bit more linear after this so yeah :) also if you didn't want to do the math their ages in this are 10/13/15


	4. Friday Afternoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't what I've been working on for the past...three weeks, but it needed to be uploaded before everything else. It's short but the next update will hopefully be up pretty soon!

**August 1940**  

* * *

 

She was on her way to work when a rather unfriendly car decided to spray a puddle of mud all over her dress and stockings while shouting crude words in her direction. She froze in her spot, completely soaked and still fifteen minutes away from the department store. Instead of offering help, passerby’s avoided her and huffed in annoyance. Making a split-second decision, she headed towards Steve’s and Bucky’s apartment.

Flora shoved her spare key in the lock and slammed the door behind her, thoroughly pissed. She stomped her way to the bathroom and threw her ruined clothes in the tub where the fell with a _splat_. She kicked off her shoes and threw in her tights for good measure, steaming at the ears.

 She walked out into the living room wrapped in a plush white towel, staring out the window that overlooked the street. The boys were out for several hours, so she had time to get her head back on straight.

Parts of her knew to be used to it. Being treated like a pest, a roach, a rat. Her mother could train her fists but it did little to toughen her skin overall. She tapped her fingernails against the windowpane, trying to let out some of her irritation. Cars passed by, people rushed to their destinations. Brooklyn was a busy place, uncaring of her sudden change of schedule.

The door behind her unlocked and giggles erupted, causing Flora to jump out of her skin. She spun on her heels and saw Bucky and a woman, who had a scowl quickly growing across her face. Flora gave a sheepish smile to the couple.

“Sorry.” She offered apologetically.

The woman snapped her teeth at Flora. “So you’re running an Asian whorehouse or something?” She spun and pushed against Bucky. “Disgusting.” She stormed out of the apartment. Flora watched with wide eyes.

“Shit. I’m so sorry, I thought everyone would be out for the day.”

Bucky calmly shut the door and walked up to her, concern across his face. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Flora’s brow creased. “Bucky, I ruined your date. aren’t you mad?” When he came closer and lightly rested his hands against her bare arms she saw the dark circles under his eyes, the weary draw of his lips. She tried not to focus on how warm his hands were, or how she was only wearing her underthings under the towel. “Bucky are you okay?”

“You have mud freckled on your face and arms.” He took his thumb and gingerly wiped her cheek, then as if instinctual stroked every birthmark on her face. When he moved towards the one on her eyelid her eyes fluttered shut, Flora’s chest heaving at the intimacy of it.  “Was it a group of people?”

He moved back and she sighed, opening her eyes. “A car. It’s alright, I have spare clothes here. I was just clearing my head for a bit before you got here.” She caught him smirk and looked out the window. She saw Bucky’s date circling the front door, huffing and puffing. Her bright red hair was hard to miss. “You should go down there and explain what happened. She’s waiting for you, she wants it to work.”

He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it and giving him a rouge look. “After how rude she was to you?Nah.”

Flora turned towards him and crossed her arms. “Buck.”

He avoided her gaze.

“At least walk her home? It’s only courteous after you brought her to a house with a half-naked woman in it.”

Bucky shook his head and laughed. “Fine, I give in. Go change, take the day off. You can stay here if you want to.”

She stood standing by the window with her towel in a white knuckle grip. Soon, Bucky ran out the door and walked over to the redhead. She stamped her foot and pointed at the window and Bucky held up his hands as if to show he was innocent. After a brief exchange they headed down the street together side-by-side.

Flora sighed and rested her head against the glass, thinking back to what her mother told her. _Find someone else. Forget._ But how was that in any way easy? Steve and Bucky were so ingrained into her life. She understood though. She knew. Because while Steve may have been desperate enough to occasionally notice her, Bucky had the liberty of dating other girls. What was the point in hoping for something else?

She parted from the window, her bare feet quiet against the hardwood floors. She quickly found spare clothes and cleaned up in the bathroom, a wet rag hastily dragged over her face and arms. She took a steadying breath and tried to think over where Steve would be at the hour.

 An hour later she was seated in a diner with Steve on his lunch break, eating burgers and fries.

”…I really think you ought to start coming on double dates with us, Flora.” Steve ended his horrible date anecdote with. Her eyebrows lifted in response.

“Why so?”

He rolled his eyes at her. “You know why. Every girl Bucky introduces me to ignores me for him. But if you go as Bucky’s date…”

Flora shifted her eyes away at that statement. “Maybe Buck just needs to get his head out of his ass.”

“Uh oh. Did something happen?”

She scrunched her face in distaste. “No. Now let me see what you’ve been drawing over there, wonder boy.”

They put up a playful fight as she grabbed for his notebook, him giving her a few light jabs with his pencil. She eventually won and held it gently, ignoring his cute pout. It was an incomplete sketch of her, her hair in the same messy bun it was currently. Her eyes were downcast, but her face was relaxed and happy. It wasn’t complete, but as with all of Steve’s drawings it was beautiful.

She sighed and brushed her fingertips over the lines. “You’re too good for this world.”

His ears tinted. “I’m sure you can draw just as good.”

Flora snorted. “You _know_ I can’t. The last time I drew something was in primary school.”

His grin flashed her his beautiful straight teeth. “C’mon. Draw me and Buck.”

She gnawed on her lip as Steve handed her his pencil. She flipped to a blank page and started sketching.

The results were awful. Steve was stifling laugher the entire time as Flora struggled with proportions and…everything. She tried erasing and redrawing but nothing worked. After about fifteen minutes she sat back and stared at her two humanoid masterpieces. The only real difference between the two was their height and hair color.

“It looks like shit.” She muttered.

Steve gasped between laughs. “Don’t forget to sign it!” 

She took a sip of her soda and smirked. “God forbid you take credit for my work.” She scrawled her name at the bottom anyways, just to humor him. Maybe he would even tape it on their apartment fridge to further embarrass her.


	5. A Soft Shock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who left a kudos or a review! Every time I got an update saying someone left something it made me so happy : )

**September 1940**

* * *

 

When Flora pouted, Bucky’s resolve turned to dust.

“Doll.”

“Please.”

“ _Doll.”_

_“Pretty please..?”_

“Steve ya gotta back me up here!”

The traitor ignored the two of them, choosing instead to seem very interested in the textbook he was reading.

Flora had her hip cocked, a smile graces upon her immaculately painted lips. “He already agreed to go.”

Funny how she could go from pleading to cocky in a matter of seconds.

“C’mon, we haven’t been in years.” She slid off their kitchen stool and stood next to him. In her heels, she was only a few inches shorter than him. She slowly blinked up at him, reminding him of several girls he had dated before. Suddenly he was slightly uncomfortable. “Pretty please?”

“You already tried that one.”

She flopped back in her chair with a grunt. “When did you become such a stick in the mud?”

He rolled his eyes as he started prepping his lunch. “I’m an adult now with a boring adult life. Sadly I can’t just go off to the countryside to go skinny dipping in the middle of the night.”

Her brow creased. “We never did that.”

“Correction- we never did that with _you_.”

Her jaw dropped as Steve let out a sputtered laugh from the living room.

Bucky chose not to tell her how he was saving up for Rebecca to go to college. Or how their rent had went up in the last year. Or that Steve had to take off so many days because of how sick he got. He just rubbed a hand through his hair and sighed. “I just dunno, doll. I’m pretty busy.”

She picked at her nails for a second before focusing back at him. “I wanted to surprise you guys but…Uncle George is willing to pay us to work on the farm this year. Crops are in high demand and he said he’s really been missing everyone. All manipulation methods aside I really want you and Steve to come with me. It just…wouldn’t feel the same without you two, you know?”

He paused and thought back to all the summers spent at Ito Farms as children. He always came back itchy and sunburnt, but happy. Always happy. Flora was still pleading with wide innocent eyes so he groaned and nodded. “How much is the pay?”

Her smile was the sun. “Forty cents an hour.”

He pointed at her mockingly. ”This is the last time Ito! You’re going to kill me!”

She let out an ungraceful snort and hopped off the stool. “You can thank me once we get there.” She grabbed the sandwich he had worked so hard on and took a large bite out of it, grinning. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They used to all be able to sit in the back seat of her uncle’s Ford, but now Flora sat in the front, her neck cranked back at what seemed to be an uncomfortable position as she watched the two of them laugh. Even with her up front it felt like Bucky took up too much of the car, pressing against Steve’s thigh and causing him to blush a bright pink. _God he blushes too easily._

The steel buildings turned into brick and mortar, then turned into trees and fields lightly speckled with cows and horses. Apple orchard lined the roads for a while and Bucky briefly wondered how rude it would be if he asked George to pull over and grab a few for the road. He imagined Mr. Ito would laugh but Flora would be embarrassed.

The first thing Bucky recognizes is the crest of a certain hill, then a few dilapidated wooden fences covered in lichens. The roads were made of dirt and the car bumped almost dangerously as they sped over the uneven rocks and lumps of grass. Old barns in need of painting looked in the distance and bright yellow flowers swaying in the soft wind.

When they pass the docks and finally reach the gravel path of the farmhouse Flora all but leapt from the car, her bag forgotten about. She was through the front door by the time the boys had gotten out of their seas.

George shook his head. “She’s definitely got some pep to her step. You boys got everything?”

Bucky waved him off as his grabbed his own bag, moving to take Flora’s before finding Steve had already grabbed it. The slighter man seemed a bit strained with the extra luggage, but he knew he could handle it.

The house was warm and inviting and full of happy faces. Flora had many relatives who lived and worked on the farm-an aunt, two uncles, a handful of cousins and her old grandpa. They all had sun kissed skin and worn calloused hands, which pressed against Bucky in the form of hugs and handshakes. Bucky didn’t consider his family small by any means by the Ito family was huge by comparison.

The table was set and they all squished together, elbows bumping as drinks dangerously tipped. They had seen the boys grow up as well as Flora, and even though they may have stuck out like two sore thumbs that didn’t mean they weren’t family as well.

After dinner the women cleaned up the dishes and put away the food while the men went out back to smoke and drink. Steve seemed conflicted, wanting to go help Flora but she convinced him to go with the rest of the men.

“You don’t need to be attached to my hip. I’m sure Uncle George and Jack wanna catch up with you as much as the girls wanna talk to me.”

Bucky took that as a sign that she needed a break from them for a while and took Steve by the elbow, heading towards the front porch. Where loud shouts and the clang of glass were coming from. Bucky wasn’t really a man’s man, so when it came to talk about the cost of seed and how whiskey was far superior to beer, he found himself wandering off towards the kitchens.

Everything was put away, all the women now huddled around the counter talking and laughing. He quickly found Flora and saddled up to her with a grin.

“I thought you were outside?” She turned her head, her eyes squinting at him almost skeptically. He knew she wasn’t really upset, she just liked putting on a show.

“What can I say? I was always more of a ladies man.” He slung his arm around her shoulders as she scoffed. There was a certain glow to her here, like she had finally clicked in place. Like she was a lost puzzle piece and this was her set. He wondered if she ever looked like that around him and Steve.

The women talked about recipes and cleaning, which Bucky was well acquainted with. He was smacked with a tea towel a few times for his language, but they always had wide grins as they chastised him.

After dark they found Steve still sitting on the porch, now alone. The cicadas and grasshoppers were deafening, but the small scratches of Steve’s pencil seemed to drown it out entirely.

“The mosquitos’ll eat you up, Steve.” Flora plopped down beside him, as graceless as ever.

He shrugged and Bucky took post by the railing, trying to see out across the night. The moon was casting just enough light to glimpse off the lake.

They sat together in silence as the stars poked into the sky. Eventually the cool night air forces them inside to their respective rooms, shoulders bumping into each other, whispers and laughs stifled so as not to alert the rest of the house.

Flora’s eyes crinkled  as she smiled outside of the boys’ allotted room. “See you guys in the morning. Bright and early.”

Bucky bit his tongue, almost asking her to come in with them. Instead he ruffled her hair and went inside, Steve close behind him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Summers on the farm were a repetitive but dull cycle-work, breakfast, work, lunch, work and break. While Flora enjoyed the sun beating on her back as she gathered crops and the strain her muscles gave from hauling barrels of hay, she knew her friends probably weren’t having as much fun. And poor Steve, sneezing every few minutes. It seemed he was allergic to every plant on god’s green earth. So she quickly bargained with her uncle for a full day off after a measly three days. He gave her a funny look, but accepted.

It went by too fast. They slept until noon, played with the new calves and swam in the lake. Despite the grins and laughs, she couldn’t help the gnawing sensation that something was looming around the corner. Logically, she knew it couldn’t be anything terrible. It was just the thought of it all being over so soon that made her lips tug downwards a bit too fast, made her steps a bit heavier. The two of them were different from her. They never said anything of it, but every time they went out it was obvious she didn’t belong. What was going to happen when they settled down? She doubted she would be welcome in their lives anymore.

Her thoughts kept her up as she tossed and turned in her cousin’s bed. Finally Penelope elbowed her harshly, her glare vicious in the dark. “Just leave already. You’re keeping me up.”

Flora glared right back. “Couldn’t tell by how loud you were snoring.”

Penny threw a pillow at her as she made her way to the door.

It had to be past midnight- even the night owls were asleep. The house creaked and groaned and she moved across the wood floors, her feet already knowing where to go.

As soon as the door opened, Steve stirred awake. “What’s wrong?”

His voice was thick and sweet and her heart swelled that he just _knew._ He knew that something was wrong.

She shook her head. “I have to go to the bathroom, I didn’t want to go out alone. Walk with me?”

Of course he wouldn’t say no and she was too selfish to let him go back to sleep.

When they headed outside into the cool air they didn’t say anything. When they walked past the outhouse they didn’t say anything. When Flora led him into the forest they didn’t say anything. Their hands were laced together and she couldn’t help but feel her pulse leap every time her gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

Flora played with the her of her nightgown then started a trek towards the woods. It was dark, but peaceful. After years of being on the farm she quickly learned  that nature was nothing to be afraid of. They heard a few snaps and whispers of animals passing in the dark, but her pace never faltered. A couple times Steve tripped, but Flora always caught him with a small laugh and concerned eyes.

They arrived at the creek and Flora’s muscles seemed to remember the large dry stone she always sat on. She released Steve’s hand and sat down, smoothing out her nightgown. She heard him shift slightly, then a few twigs shift as he sat down on the ground a few feet away from her.

“This was my secret getaway as a kid. It continues on for a mile and leads to a few  small waterfalls. It’s beautiful in the fall.”

They sat in silence together, the soft trickling and rustling of grass almost lulling Steve to sleep. She moved and press against his side. The grass shifted under her weight, a slight crackle in the noise of the night.

“Do you think…” she paused and tried to think over her words, her fears. “I feel like I’m going to get left behind.” When he remained silent, she pressed on, her thoughts bubbling out of her, almost angry. “You and Bucky, you’re a team, you’re inseparable. You went to art school together, you live together, you see each other every day…I’m waiting to get married off.”

“That’s not true-“

“You know it is,” she interrupted. It wasn’t harsh, but she sounded firm all the same. “I try to find friends and boyfriends, but I can’t seem to distance myself. I follow the both of you like a lost puppy.” Her sigh sounded heavy, drenched in nerves. “What do I do when you guys grow up and I’m still stuck on you, alone?”

He grasped her hands quickly. “We won’t leave you. We’ll always be together.”

“When you have wives? Children?” She sighed. “At this rate I’ll be stuck with my parents. No one is the same as you two.” 

He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist and his face in her neck. She tried to imagine someone else’s arms around her- a stranger, someone who she had to serve with a smile and shuttered at the thought. She wanted fo meld together with Steve- wanted to become his soap and sunlight scent, his soft blonde hair and fierce eyes. How could anyone else know her boys like she did?

“Don’t be silly- you’d have to forcibly tear us apart, it doesn’t matter how old we get.”

She sniffled and brushed her fingers in his hair,  stroking softly. “I know what I am, Steve.”

They were quiet, wrapped in each other listening to the water trickle across the stones and moss. Birds started chirping, then eventually rays of sunlight began to peak out from behind branches and leaves. The pink skies were a stark contrast to the dull night.

“We should head back.” She whispered. Her cheeks were dry but she still felt a little sick. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head from so long ago _: You and the boys…you’re different from them. It’s not a bad thing, but people might make you think that. Sometimes you just have to give in._

He stood and offered his hand, his eyebrows furrowed as if lost in thought. . “What if you moved in with us?”

Her heart gave a leap. “Shouldn’t you be asking Bucky first?”

“Nah, he won’t mind. Besides, we can make room.” He stood ahead of her as she brushed off her nightgown, too much of a gentleman to start heading back without her.

“I hadn’t really thought about it.” She considered the two of them in their apartment that smelled like books and was more than likely a fire hazard. It was a bit small, the furniture was a bit rugged and occasionally the ceiling leaked when it stormed. She didn’t visit as often as she should- adult life was difficult like that- but she could see herself fitting into the cracks of their life. “It would be nice. I could make breakfast every morning and Bucky could make supper.”

His lips turned upward. “What about me?”

“You can’t cook for shit, Steven Grant Rogers.” Her face was alight now, beaming.

“Language.” He barely managed the care to mumble. Flora sputtered a laugh.

 

* * *

They left the farm with stray tears and suffocating hugs. It was early in the morning, and even though Flora was the opposite of a morning person she was bursting at the seams. She was full of everything- happiness, optimism and _love._ She couldn't help smiling to herself. Every time she tried to seal her lips shut she thought about her future with Steve and Bucky and her stomach rolled, her lips twitching up. She visited their apartment enough to know where everything was, but not enough to know how they lived. _Were they terribly domestic with each other? Do they bicker like a married couple?_ Flora stole a quick glance towards Bucky and found him staring out the window. _How long does he take to style his hair?_

As soon as the car stopped in front of her home she raced out, grabbing her bags and running up to her parents' door.

Her mother was patching up a pair of her father’s pants and looked over the rim of her glasses as Flora burst in. “In a rush, love?”

Flora planted a kiss on her mother’s cheek and headed towards her room, closing the door behind her. She studied the contents, debating on what exactly she was allowed to take. It seemed in poor taste to take the furniture- did that mean she would have to buy a new bed when she moved out? She settled for looking for a box to put her clothes in.

The older woman clucked her tongue at her daughter. “What is with your constant hustle? You just got back, at least tell me how everyone is! Did you have fun?”

Flora paused with her head under the kitchen cabinets, still searching for the boxes she knew were buried. “Yeah, it was fun. Aunt Hattie had her baby and he’s already cutting teeth.”

“Really!” Her mother didn’t look up from her stitching but Flora knew the interest was genuine. She always loved that about her mother- her attention may be divided, but she still listened.

She finally pulled out the musty box and sat it down on the wooden floor with a thump. Flora sat back on her haunches and stared at her mother, thinking. Her silky black hair was curled and pinned away from her face, very few grey hairs revealing her age. From here she couldn’t see the crinkles around her eyes and parenthesis around her mouth. Her mother was smart, quick, and fierce. Everything Flora wanted to be. Surely she knew what to do.

"Do you think it's about time I move out?"

"Why would you?"

Flora frowned at that. "I'm an adult, mother. I have a job and quite a bit of money saved up. When do _you_

expect me to move out?"

"I hadn't really thought of it. I suppose when you get married-"

And there it was.

"Mother, it isn't 1910 anymore. Women can move out on their own now."

Her mother laughed and got up from her seat, knitting put aside. "I _know_  that, but you're…different. What ever happened to Fred Ono?"

Flora could feel her excitement shrivel up. "Freddie? Freddie dumped me last March." After calling her out in how absolutely un-ladylike she was, he left her to catch her own cab. She quickly found the address to his apartment and cracked several rotten eggs through his mail slot.

"Oh, he seemed like a sweet boy."

She pressed her lips together and tried not to grimace. "I'm moving out."

Her mother laughed again and moved to the kitchen, starting preparations for supper. Usually Flora would help her but now she felt frozen, the blood draining from her face. "I'm moving in with Bucky and Steve. We already talked it out, they have a spare room-"

"That's enough!" And suddenly the laughter was gone, replaced by the woman who took her to the rooftops to box, who knew how to throw a punch and had muscles from hauling groceries every other day. Her mother had whooped her more than once, and that fear suddenly leapt back into Flora as she stared at her mother's furrowed eyebrows. "I don't have time for this. Help me peel the potatoes."

"No." Her voice lacked conviction, but the fact that she said it at all left her somewhat proud. Flora may have been an outspoken person but that in no way applied to her mother. "I'm an adult, I can make my own decisions. I love you but please understand-"

"You think people will just accept that? Accept you there with them?" Her mother paused as she got out a knife and started cutting away at the flesh of the potatoes, not looking her daughter in the eye. Flora felt her breath stick in her throat. " The world is cruel. Men are cruel especially white men. I know you care for Steve and Bucky but all people like them do is take and take. They will hurt you. The world will hurt you.”

Flora clenched her fists. "You know them! You know they wouldn’t hurt me!”

“And their neighbors? Other friends? Coworkers? Do you really think they’d be fine with some Asian girl hanging around two white men?”

She paused and caught herself, staring at the older woman's back as she hunched over dicing vegetables. Her last words were ringing over and over again in her head. "They're going to learn to be fine with it."

She bent down and grabbed the stupid old boxes that still laid on the floor and collected her clothes.


End file.
